


Magpie

by levlinwinlaer



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: And it's gay, F/F, amberle is totally heterosexual™, and eretria happens, and then she gets lost, she's engaged to wil, totally straight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levlinwinlaer/pseuds/levlinwinlaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Magpies are oddities. They are not strange in that they love shiny objects, nor in how they hoard them, nor in how they steal. The strange thing about magpies is that they give them away. But only to those who they truly, deeply love. To be a magpie's lover is to have an extraordinary honor bestowed upon you."<br/>They sit in silence for a moment, and then Amberle glances over, a curious smile tugging at her lips.<br/>"You know, you're awfully well-spoken for just a rover."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Characters are from the Shannara Chronicles. This will either be really long, or a oneshot, so bear with me, please.

She doesn't quite remember how she ends up storming out of the tutor's room and making a beeline for the throne room, ignoring the grasp of the servant's hands.

She does remember that it's been a hot day, and it's certainly not like the previous evenings, when she could see the brilliant sunset from her window, a cool splendor falling over her room. Perhaps her annoyance stems from that; she just wanted to finish the painting of the light- she had almost just captured it perfectly. Add on the itchy dress, the heavy jewelry, and the hours of uncomfortably adjusting her posture to the tutor's will, and she's ready to go back to sleep and pretend the day had never happened.

The rest of the servants seem just as bothered by the stuffy air, and so no one reaches out to grab her as she dashes through the halls, her dress hoisted up so that the heavy silk brushes her ankles. She comes to a halt just outside her mother's room, and peeks inside. 

Her mother sits at the bed, posture perfect as usual, fingers skimming over the pages of a book- financial records. When she coughs, she looks up, and places the book to the side.

"Amberle," she greets, and Amberle huffs, storming over to her side and plopping herself down.

"I hate this," she groans, head slipping down to rest on her mother's shoulder, and she just chuckles lightly, running her fingers through Amberle's hair.

"It's all paid off, though," she says, and Amberle lifts her head in confusion at her mother's unusually jubilant tone.

"What?" she asks, and grins at her mother's contagious smile.

"You're engaged," her mother says brightly.

Amberle stares in horror, gaping, thoughts racing a mile a minute, and her mother somehow mistakes it for shocked happiness, and then she laughs, the comforting sound of tinkling bells suddenly absolutely repulsive, and wraps her arms around the girl's shoulders.

"You're getting married to Prince Wil! The one with the nice hair, do you remember? I-" and then she frowns down at Amberle, who forces a smile.

Her mother doesn't seem to notice, and she chatters on about how rich his kingdom is, and how much prosperity he'll bring Arborlon, and Amberle just sits there, eyes wide, thoughts screaming through her mind.

 _No,_ she thinks,  _No way. I can't be engaged already._

But the thing is- she can be engaged, at just sixteen, when most girls are just finding their beaus, and falling in love.

After all, she's a princess. She takes what she wants, marries a Prince Charming, lives the perfect fairytale life.

Most people would kill to get what she has, and she doesn't blame them. She can have the fairy tale life everyone wants. No one ever considers that maybe, just maybe, the fairytale life isn't what they want, least of all what they need. Honestly, the possibility is too frightening to consider- stories are the only chance you get to be perfect. Stories are the only chance to live whatever life you want, to be a princess, to get everything you want.

She gets what she wants by being the perfect little girl, and so she sits there, smiling beatifically, and waits for her mother to pause before nodding, and politely excusing herself.

When she's outside, the door safely locked behind her, she starts to run.

_But some stories-_

Anywhere, any place that's not here,

_-do not get-_

and she runs through the halls, something prickling at the corners of her eyes,

_-happy endings._

brushing off the hands that reach out to her,  _leave me alone, leave me alone,_

_And some princesses-_

and the tears begin to fall quickly, quicker, sliding down her cheeks

_-do not live-_

and she dimly registers losing her shoes, cast aside, forlorn silk, lace, straps undone, somewhere in the marble halls,

_-fairytale lives._

and then she feels the soft earth under her bare feet, but she keeps running, running, for what seems like hours, until she's far enough, until she can feel her lungs again, every breath harsh, tears still flowing, and it is cold and dark, and suddenly she is falling, and she hits the ground hard, barely catching herself on her hands. 

She winces, looking down at the smear of red on her hand, and when she looks up, she finds herself in the forest. The forest beyond the garden- she must have blindly gotten through the gate, and she looks around in wonder, with a little trepidation.

The trees seem to scowl at her, branches arching like a wall around her, twisted and tangled together, bracing each other, keeping the others steady.

"I'll be fine," she reassures herself, and it sounds pitiful in the lonely echo of the woods, and so she stands a little higher,  _chin up, back straight, eyes confident, remember your lessons,_ and says, louder this time, "I'm fine."

And then something moves, and she whips around, stares fearfully, and the adrenaline from the tears is gone, and she feels limp, like a rag doll, and helpless. She has always had an overactive imagination, and now she thinks of wolves, of predators, of sharp eyes and sharper teeth.

"Help!" she calls out, and then thinks the better of it when she realizes she's just drawing attention to herself. She looks around, seeing no path.

She wanders for a day, knowing she's just getting more and more lost, and she thinks, desperate,  _I would rather marry the prince than be killed by an animal._

That night, she discovers that she's right, as she always is- she's even more lost than she was before.

The forest grows darker, colder, and she huddles, shivering by a tree, as an owl hoots ominously. It feels as if she barely falls asleep when she wakes, unused to the sounds of the forest at night, when she hears a rustle.

Her eyes sharpen, looking along the ground, raking the treetops, and then suddenly she spots a pair of eyes. Yellow, inhuman, watching her, and she thinks  _wolf._

And then another pair of eyes appears, and another, and that's when she stops thinking  _wolves_ and starts thinking  _I'm going to die._

They circle around each other, eyes disappearing then reappearing in curious places, and she is actually going to die.

She squeezes her eyes shut, hoping it'll at least be painless.

There's another rustle, and she lets out a fearful whimper, eyes snapping open by instinct, and then suddenly there's something dark flashing above her, and she only has time to let out a huff of surprise before something-  _no, someone_ \- hops down from a tree.

Specifically, the tree Amberle's sitting against, and she screams as they land right in front of her feet, barely missing her bare toes.

"Ssh," the person says irritably, and then they reach into a hip sheath and pull out a knife, twirling it lightly before taking aim and throwing it, movements fluid in the moonlight. Amberle stares, wide-eyed, as one wolf drops to the ground, and the others let out low growls before scampering away.

The person strolls over to the wolf and retrieves the knife before turning back to Amberle, who stays where she is, eyes wide in fear.

"Hey," they- no, she, it's a girl- says, and beckons. "Come out, let's see your face."

Amberle stays where she is, quaking, and finally the girl sighs before squatting and squinting over at the princess.

"I don't bite," she says, and Amberle can't really distinguish her features in the moonlight, but she looks oddly... pretty.

Eventually, curiosity overtakes common sense, and she rises and steps out into the lit patch.

"Holy-" the girl breathes, staring at the gleaming silver badge on her dress. Amberle crosses her arms defensively, and the girl rolls her eyes playfully. "Calm down there, princess. I was just surprised. That's worth a fortune, y'know."

"I do know." Amberle says sharply, and the girl raises her eyebrows, hands rising in defense.

"What's a noble like you doing out here at night?"

Amberle sighs. "I... I might have gotten lost."

"Pretty damn lost," the girl says, and then she laughs. "I don't blame you. Royals tend to be shit at directions."

Amberle's temper flares, and she glares at the girl- a rover. "You don't know anything about royals."

"Oh really," the girl retorts. "I met one once."

Amberle gives a disbelieving snort. "What, in a picture?"

"Hey." the girl says, shooting her a looks. "Don't patronise me. I just saved your ass."

She bites down her next words with nothing short of a tremendous force of will, and then uncrosses and recrosses her arms, staring off.

"Well, I suppose a thank you would be too much," she mutters, and turns away, taking a step.

As much as Amberle hates her kind (filthy rovers, she thinks snidely), she wants even less to be alone in these woods.

"Wait," she blurts out, "Can you tell me how to get to the castle?"  
From the look the girl gives her as she turns slowly back around, it was the wrong thing to say.

"For a price," the girl says finally, and Amberle grasps at her wrist, pulling off the silver band. She taps the metal for a second before tossing it to the rover, who, to Amberle's surprise and disgust, bites it lightly.

She notices Amberle's look and shrugs. "Don't cheat me, princess," she warns, and Amberle frowns at the nickname.  
"Don't call me that."  
"Unless you want me to leave you here in the middle of Arborlon Forest, you'd better learn to like it," she says, and then she fully turns and steps over a fallen branch to Amberle, holding out a hand.

Amberle sighs deeply before grasping it, and her palm is warm, callused, in contrast to Amberle's cold, delicate, soft hands.

The girl whistles. "Never done a lick of work in your life," she says, and taps Amberle's hand once before pulling away and turning to the fallen wolf. She cuts it open with one stroke of the knife, and Amberle watches, entranced, at the graceful curl of her wrist- and then she sees the blood, and she turns away, one hand rising to her mouth.

"Calm down, princess," the girl says, infuriatingly mocking, "It's just blood."  
She quiets after that, and Amberle keeps her head turned away, wanting more than anything to be in her soft down bed right now with a book of magic tales.

After about an hour, the girl coughs softly, and Amberle's broken out of her trance. The girl has a silver skin slung over her shoulder. The remnants of the wolf lie completely in view, and Amberle closes her eyes, leans over, and vomits into a bush. She's fairly certain the rover's delighted by her reaction, judging from her mocking smirk, and probably dragged the entrails into the light to elicit it from her.

When she's done, the girl beckons, and turns away, walking fast. Amberle catches up to her with some difficulty, and notes her small stature with triumph, reminding herself to loom over the rover as much as possible.

An hour later, they're still speedwalking, and Amberle's exhausted. She stumbles over a root, and the girl catches her arm without even looking at her. Amberle's surprised, and also vaguely irritated by how she makes it look easy.

"Thank you," she mumbles, pointedly not looking at the mocking grin on her face that appears suddenly.

"You're welcome," she replies, saccharine sweet.

She lets out an annoyed huff. "This doesn't feel like the right direction."  
"Because your sense of direction's shit." the girl points out, and Amberle pouts.

"But no," she allows, "We're not going in the direction of the castle."  
Amberle nearly screams in exasperation, but the girl covers her mouth with a light hand.  
"Why not?" she whispers angrily, and the rover has the audacity to roll her eyes.

"Because there's another group of rovers around the gate you have to go through," she says, "And let's just say I'm not exactly cuddly with them right now."

"Oh my god, you're a criminal," Amberle whispers, and the rover snorts.  
"We're all criminals in the forest," she says, and then pulls a knife from a shoulder sheath, watching it dance on her fingertip. Amberle watches from behind her, oddly entranced, and then she turns around and suddenly its blade is a lot less dangerously entrancing and a lot more scary. 

Amberle stumbles back, but the rover just raises an eyebrow.

"You coming?"  
She huffs, irritated, because she's managed to scare her again, and stomps forward, not waiting for the other girl.

"How long is this going to take?" she asks, and the rover shrugs, easily catching up to her.

"About two weeks. Gate's pretty long."  
"Mother's going to kill me," she realizes, and the rover shrugs.

"Or everyone else in the kingdom until she finds you."

She realizes that's a fair point.

"But," and the rover holds up a finger, "We're going to have to stop by a trading post, so that'll lengthen the trip by about a day. I only have food for one person to last a week."

Amberle nods slowly before stepping out.

"Furthermore," the rover says, "You're paying me back."

Amberle sighs in exasperation. "Fine."

The girl nods, seemingly satisfied, and continues walking.

Amberle realizes something. "Hey wait," she calls out, and the rover stops, looking back in exasperation at all the stopping they're doing. "What's your name?"

"Eretria." she says, and tilts her head. "Yours?"

"I'm Amberle."

Eretria hums. "I prefer princess."

Amberle sighs, and then Eretria beckons for her to catch up, and she does.

About thirty minutes later, the rover stops suddenly, and Amberle slams into her, knocking both of them to the ground. She winces, and opens her mouth to complain. Eretria curses quietly, and shoves a hand over Amberle's mouth as the sound of footsteps grow nearer.

"A hundred thousand," comes a voice, and Eretria's eyes go as round as saucers. "Bring her to me."

A pause. "Who?"

"The rover, of course," comes the voice, irritated, "You know."

Amberle looks over at Eretria in fear as one last word comes, a name.

"Eretria."


	2. Diversion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll be a slightly shorter chapter- my apologies.

And then the footsteps draw away, and Eretria yanks Amberle to her feet, but they're not so lucky- the man starts to speak again, and now he's pacing.

Eretria curses under her breath, and then she drops a shoulder, letting the wolfskin slide off of her, and carefully hides the gleaming silver fur under a tangle of ivy. And then she turns to a tree, fingers gripping rough bark, and she starts to climb. Amberle gapes as she easily scales the tree, pausing at the first branch. The man's footsteps grow nearer and nearer, his voice louder and louder, and Eretria holds out a hand to Amberle. The princess brushes her hand off and jumps neatly onto the bark, climbing the tree with some dignity, and then Eretria shakes her head furiously- the man's almost back in the clearing- and she reaches down, grabs her hand, and practically yanks her up to the second branch, ignoring her huff of indignant surprise.

"I hate you," she mouths, and Eretria smirks at her from above before pulling her all the way into a tiny hollow, so that they're practically pressed against each other. Amberle scowls at her face, inches away, as the man re-enters the clearing.

"After all, everything has its price," he says, and then he tosses the man a strip of some material.

They wait, breaths hushed, as finally-  _finally-_ the two walk away, and then Eretria lets out a sigh of relief, and looks up. Amberle stares at her for a second too long before catching herself and clambering off, sliding inelegantly down the tree. Eretria picks up the wolfskin and beckons- at this point, it's almost morning, and the sun peeks above the mountains, casting a curious shadow over everything.

They walk on.

“So,” Eretria starts, as they’re trudging through the forest, “How exactly did you get into the forest?”

Amberle blinks; she’s practically forgotten about that. “Oh- um, I disagreed with my mother, so I ran away.”  
“Oh, your engagement,” Eretria says, as if it makes perfect sense, and Amberle stops, gaping at her.

“How did you know?”  
“Did you not know until yesterday?” Eretria asks, frown matching Amberle’s. “Everyone knows- the queen’s been talking to Prince Wil’s father for ages.”  
“So everyone knew except me?” Amberle asks in disbelief, and Eretria shrugs.

“Pretty much.”

She ushers Amberle on, and she sighs and continues walking.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect a hundred thousand on my head,” she says, “It was more like twenty thousand last time I checked.”

And then she frowns and thinks again. “Actually, I stole about seventy thousand last month, so I’m not sure-“  
“How are you so calm about this?” Amberle interrupts, exasperated, and Eretria just shrugs lightly.

“I’m not afraid of Cephalo,” she says calmly. “And that’s shit for him, because he obviously needs me, and there’s no way but force to make me work for him.”  
“You know him?” Amberle asks, and for some reason, Eretria snorts.

“You could say that,” she says, and then falls silent. Amberle studies her as they walk along, notes the crease at the edge of her eyes that means she’s thinking about something.

She blinks, and wonders just when she noticed that, but her thoughts are interrupted by Eretria’s arm sweeping across her front.

She immediately stills, looking around for a sudden attack, but she finds only the forest. “What?” she whispers, and Eretria points.  
“Look,” she says, and Amberle’s gaze follows her finger, and then she stares in wonder.

It’s a small brook, water quiet, the sound soothing, rushing over dark rocks, curving toward the clearing they stand in. It’s framed by trees, leaves green, red-orange, glowing with the morning sun. Amberle’s fingers itch, and she longs for her sketchbook.

The sun filters through the canopy, grass soft against Amberle’s bare feet, and she curls her toes, reveling in the feeling of sinking into soft, malleable earth. The wind breezes lightly through the leaves, rustling quietly. Eretria turns to her.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” and her voice is soft, quiet, reverent. Amberle smiles for the first time since she ran away, and nods.

“I wish I had my paints,” she says quietly, and Eretria laughs, a real laugh, not mocking, not judgmental, just the sound of reveling in being alive.

She turns, surprised by the sound, and sees the rover, dark eyes dancing. She kicks off her shoes, drops the wolfskin, and holds out a hand. After a moment of hesitance, Amberle takes it, curious, and then Eretria pulls her into a run, leaping gracefully over the river.

“You don’t need a painting if you have a memory,” she says, and kneels in front of the brook, pulling Amberle down. She drops to her knees reluctantly, remembering the cost of the silk, and Eretria leans forward, tugging their hands toward the water- and _when did their fingers intertwine?_ She touches the cool water, letting her hand skim lightly over the surface, and then Eretria pulls their hands all the way in, and, before she can defend herself, reaches out with her other hand and splashes her, droplets landing in her hair, soaking the top of her dress.

She laughs uproariously as Amberle blinks, paralyzed, once, twice, and then suddenly she splashes her back, and soon they're giggling like little children, splashing barefoot through the river, and then suddenly Amberle tackles her to the ground, and she lets out a surprised huff as she pins her over the river. Amberle stares, quiet, at Eretria's dark eyes, wide, staring up at her, and she stays there for a moment too long, before jumping up as quickly as possible and turning away.

Eretria sits up in the river, completely soaked, and lets out a quiet breath.

"We should get a move on," Amberle says, cheeks scarlet, voice a little strangled, and Eretria nods slowly, rising, looking down at her waterlogged clothing with an expression between laughter and distaste.

Amberle stares at the tree in front of her, and wonders, frustrated, what this goddamn _feeling_ is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contact me at @dreamof1698 if you want me to write something for you.


	3. Miracles

Eretria sits cross-legged on a stone near the river, leaning against a tree. The sunlight comes through the leaves like gold, covering her face in dappled spots. As a leaf breaks from its stem and floats down, the light shines brilliantly through it, and for a moment, her hair is set alight, fire burning through the dark waves. Amberle stares as it holds for a moment before slipping away on the breeze, and Eretria doesn't seem to notice.

She's stripped out of her jacket, and so she's now only in a tight black shirt, still damp, and as she takes a breath, her chest swells, and Amberle's eyes fall, unbidden, and then snap back up, her cheeks flaming, bracing herself for the teasing 'Like what you see?'

Eretria mumbles slightly, head lolling to the side, and Amberle realizes she's asleep. After a moment, she smiles slightly, and then suddenly the other girl falls to the side, landing on her arm, head practically in the river. Amberle sucks in a breath before rising and sprinting over to the rover, who grunts slightly but somehow remains asleep.

Amberle looks down for a second, debating whether to pick her up or let her be, and then she conquers the part of her that says  _let her be in pain_ , and she reaches down, slides one hand behind her back, palm flat between her shoulder blades, and the other behind her head, and then she pulls her back into a sitting position.

She notices a flash of something shiny, and bends slightly to look at it, intrigued.

It's a necklace, a silver bird, evidently crafted with much care, which dangles from a thin chain around Eretria’s neck, and she pulls her hand away from Eretria's back, touching the cool metal with a light finger.

She hears a slight cough, and looks up, meeting Eretria's laughing dark eyes.

"Not that I mind, but I thought that you were engaged," the rover says, expression irritatingly smug, and Amberle scowls, rising.

"I was picking you up," she retorts, "You fell over."  
Eretria nods, her expression disbelieving, and that just makes Amberle scowl deeper.

“I hate you,” she retorts feebly, and turns away- and runs straight into her jacket, which flutters from a branch. Surprised, she inhales sharply- and she’s suddenly surrounded by the scent of Eretria- rich, heady, sweet, _intoxicating_ , uniquely hers.

She realizes suddenly that she’s been standing there for far too long, and she shifts away, clearing her throat and looking back. The rover is lounging on the ground, looking absolutely at home, propped up on one elbow.

Eretria just smiles when their eyes meet, and Amberle returns it, albeit a little grudgingly.

A few minutes later, they’re back to walking.

“So…” Amberle starts, “You never told me how you know the guy.”

“Oh, Cephalo,” Eretria says. “He’s my father.”

Amberle stops short at her words, and Eretria looks back at her.

“Are you done with the dramatic stopping yet?” she asks, looking vaguely annoyed, and Amberle just gapes at her.

“He’s your _father_?” she asks in disbelief, and Eretria frowns slightly.

“Not biologically,” she explains, “I was sold to him a few years back, and then I ran away. In rover society, we’re all a ‘family’,” and she makes quotation marks with her fingers, “so technically, as a seventeen-year-old, I’m under his custody.”  
“Sold?” Amberle asks, and Eretria nods, looking straight ahead.

“Yeah. I don’t know who my parents are- I was sold to my first owner when I was three.”  
Amberle looks over, horrified- the rovers are barbaric, after all.

“No, it’s not that bad,” Eretria says, as if reading her mind, “You follow orders, and you’re fine. You don’t, and-“she gestures vaguely- “ _this_ happens.”  
“Still,” Amberle says, “That’s an awful way to live.”

Eretria shrugs. “It’s all relative,” she says, and they don’t speak for a while after that.

Eventually, they reach a small barn with a fading blue roof, the paint faded, flaking in a few places. Eretria strolls casually up to the front door and knocks, a rapid series of taps, obviously a code.

A few moments later, the door swings open, and an elderly woman peeks out before shrieking happily and grabbing the rover in a tight hug. Amberle stares awkwardly to the side, at the white tiles of the barn, as the woman somehow lifts her into the air and squeezes her. When she lets go, Eretria lets out a pained breath, one hand tentatively tapping at her (probably broken) ribs. Amberle lets out a slight huff of laughter, and at the noise, the woman turns to her, eyes suspicious.

“Who is this?” she asks, and Eretria lets out a little ‘oh’ before stepping over and placing a warm hand on the small of Amberle’s back.

“This is Amberle,” she says, and the old woman doesn’t even react to the name, instead sizing her up with judgmental eyes. Amberle shrinks under her gaze, fingers nervously pulling at the hem of her dress, and then the woman finally lets out a ‘humph’ and turns away, waddling back into the barn.

“You’re good,” Eretria whispers, hand falling from her back, and Amberle almost- _almost_ \- misses the contact.

Instead she shoots the rover a relieved smile and steps into the barn.

It’s warm, tastefully furnished, homey, and Amberle breathes in the unobtrusive scent of sweet pine.

“Ryli will be so glad to know you’re back,” the woman gushes, and lets out a whistle.

After a moment, Amberle hears a clatter from upstairs, and she jumps, startled. A girl comes bounding down the wooden stairs, and when she sees Eretria, she lets out a little squeal and grabs her in a hug, pulling back after a moment and kissing her cheek lightly.

“It’s been ages!” she exclaims, and then her gaze falls on Amberle, and her expression flickers through surprise, annoyance, and settles on hatred.

“Um… hi?” Amberle offers, and the girl scowls at her.

“Who is this?” she asks, but instead of the woman’s distrust, she sounds angry.

Amberle shoots her a glare in return.

“Amberle,” Eretria says cheerfully, completely oblivious to the icy glares shot over her head, and the girl stares in surprise.

“Like… the princess?”  
“Yeah,” Eretria says, just as cheerfully, and Amberle looks away from the girl and meets the woman’s eyes. She’s watching her with an unreadable expression, and Amberle blinks, confused, before she turns back to the stove and tosses a handful of something in.

That night’s dinner is filled with the girl’s chatter, and Eretria’s response, as the old woman stares levelly at Amberle. She catches her gaze a few times, and immediately looks away, uncomfortable.

The food is surprisingly good, and Amberle thanks the woman quietly. She nods, and then grabs Eretria’s arm, dragging her into the kitchen, ignoring her surprised yelp.

“She is helping me clean,” the woman says, and then the door closes with a click.

Amberle is left in awkward silence with the girl, and they both stare pointedly at anywhere but the other, until finally the girl huffs and slams her glass down on the table harder than necessary. Amberle meets her gaze levelly, and the girl’s jaw works, evidently angry.

“I know,” she says finally. “I know you do.”  
Amberle blinks. “You know I _what_?”

“You have feelings for her,” Ryli says. “I know you do. Don’t try to deny it.”  
“But I-“ Amberle protests, and then Ryli suddenly tosses the contents of her glass at her. It burns into her skin like fire, a few drops landing in her mouth, and she swallows, wiping the liquid from her face with sloppy, uncoordinated strokes.

“What the hell!” she half-yells, and Ryli just watches her, eyes boring into hers.  
“Do you have feelings for her?”  
The ‘maybe’ bursts out of her throat unbidden, and past her lips, and her eyes widen, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

Ryli just smirks. “Truth serum,” she explains, and then rises, setting the glass down. “Good luck.”  
And then she’s gone, and Amberle wonders what the hell she meant by that.

And then suddenly she realizes what she’s said, and her eyes go round as saucers.

It’s true the rover’s attractive, no one with eyes could deny that, but _feelings?_ After a single day?

 _No,_ she decides, _her answer was perfectly rational. She’s right- she doesn’t know if she has feelings for the rover, because she’s only attracted to men, and there’s no way that could be possible- but considering the fact that truth serum actually exists, she can’t be sure at this point._

_Miracles do happen, after all._


	4. Reroute

Amberle comes downstairs the next morning, dressed in a loose cotton shirt and shorts, and she finds Eretria, curled up on the couch, a book held loosely between her fingers. She stands in the doorway, watches as she flips a page, and then makes her presence known with a small cough. Eretria looks up.

“Hey,” she says, and looks back down, marks her page, and then sets the book down.

Amberle wanders into the room, pulls up a chair.

“Where’s Ryli?” she asks, and Eretria makes a noncommittal noise.

“Out collecting… I think?”

Deciding that it’s now or never, she decides to introduce it subtly into the conversation.

“She asked me if I had feelings for you,” she blurts out.

Oops. Or not.

Eretria looks up, eyes wide. “She  _ what _ ?”

“Ridiculous, right? Like I’d ever have feelings for a rover…”

And then she trails off, realizing she’s probably being offensive. Eretria looks back down.

“Yeah,” she says, “ridiculous. A princess wouldn’t want a rover.”

They sit in silence for a long moment, Amberle fidgeting with the edge of her shirt, uncharacteristically off-kilter.

“How long’s the trek now?” she asks, and Eretria shrugs.

“Probably about two and a half weeks… I think? You have to take everything into account.”

“You know a lot about this forest, don’t you?” Amberle says, and Eretria shrugs.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

She shifts slightly in her seat, leans closer to the girl.

“You know,” she says, voice quiet in the early morning, “I think that you know a lot more than you let on.”

“No-“ she begins, and Amberle cuts her off.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing, and Eretria turns, looking at the little yellow-green bird.

“Female scarlet tanager,” she says immediately, and then frowns. “What are you-“

“And that tree?”

“Green ash,“ she replies, frown deeper.

“How do you know?”

“The bark’s in a diamond shape. Why all the questions?”

“See?” Amberle says smugly. “You know a lot more than you let on.”

“No, I don’t,” Eretria says defensively. “I’m just a rover. We know the forest.”

Amberle nods, and then catches a glimpse of silver- her necklace.

“What’s your necklace?” she asks, and Eretria looks down, one finger hooking in the chain and tugging at it.

“It’s a magpie,” she says after a beat, and Amberle frowns.

“Why? Magpies aren’t really- they don’t characterize any particular virtue, do they?”

“No,” Eretria says, “No, they don’t. They’re not brave, they’re not strong, but they  _ are  _ different, and that’s what makes them special.”

“Different,” Amberle says thoughtfully. “How?”

Eretria takes a breath.

"Magpies are oddities. They are not strange in that they love shiny objects, nor in how they hoard them, nor in how they steal. The strange thing about magpies is that they give them away. But only to those who they truly, deeply love. To be a magpie's lover is to have an extraordinary honor bestowed upon you."

They sit in silence for a moment, and then Amberle glances over, a curious smile tugging at her lips.

"You know, you're awfully well-spoken for just a rover."

Eretria blushes, and Amberle can’t help but think how pretty she is in the soft morning light, eyes half-closed, full lips curved ever so slightly.

She blinks, and with some effort, pulls her gaze from the rover’s lips.

“Where’d you get it?” she asks, and Eretria tilts her head slightly.

“A rover in my second owner’s camp,” she explains, “He taught me a lot of things.”

“Like what?” Amberle asks softly, and Eretria smiles, and she thinks,  _ you should smile more _ .

“His name was Rainian,” she says, and Amberle nods, “He was from Kyrder, and he was a Tester- someone who assigns the masks. He told me I was a magpie when we first met, and later, he explained that it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He said that I was like that- determined, sometimes cowardly, a dreamer. And a magpie is characterized by its attitude toward love. It falls in love easily- it thinks  _ this is it, I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you, there will never be another,  _ and then, a few months later, it finds someone else, and it thinks,  _ before, that was nothing, nothing compared to this, this is it,  _ and then it moves on just as quickly. But as it loves deeply, it gives deeply, and it has an overflowing heart. But, he warned me,” and Amberle watches her carefully, “never to fall for another magpie. That can only end badly- it’s against every bit of a magpie’s nature to fall, and not fall out of love.”

“So if you fall in love with a magpie,” Amberle says, “Then you can’t fall out?”

Eretria shakes her head. “No. You can’t.”

“And have you found another magpie yet?”

She shrugs. “I don’t think so. I can’t really tell.”

“I think,” Amberle states, “That whether someone’s like that or not, you can still fall in love, and not fall out. It doesn’t matter if they’re a magpie or a tiger, whatever a tiger happens to be defined as. All that matters is that you care enough to care for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t know,” Eretria says, “Maybe you’re right.”

They sit in a comfortable silence for about an hour, until Ryli comes back with a basket of wild berries.

Amberle turns them down, for fear of being poisoned by the glaring girl, and in turn Ryli presses them on her with a sickeningly sweet smile, and she refuses politely, even more sure that they’re poisoned, until eventually Eretria rises suddenly from her chair.

“What the hell is wrong?” she demands. “I don’t know what happened, but why do you two hate each other? You met yesterday, for god’s sake!”

“Ryli’s in love with you,” Amberle interrupts smoothly- she is quite the diplomat, after all, and the girl goes bright red. Amberle smiles, mockingly saccharine, as her eyes blaze with anger, and Eretria looks over, confused.

“What?” she asks, and Amberle just tilts her head, blinking innocently.

Eretria looks at Ryli, then back at Amberle.

“You’re lying,” she says.

Amberle raises an eyebrow. “But am I?”

Her gaze flits back to Ryli. “Is she-”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Ryli snaps, and storms off.

Eretria looks after her with a lost expression, then shakes her head and slumps down on the couch, picking up her book.

They leave after a few hours, and Amberle snickers at Ryli in farewell. She glares and draws a finger across her throat.

Nothing particularly exciting happens for the next few days, and then they reach the trading outpost.

It’s then that Amberle sees the bracelet, and she stares at it, fascinated, for a moment, before Eretria strolls over to the food and starts bargaining ruthlessly. When the rover walks out, wearing the insufferable mocking expression she usually wears, Amberle pulls the shopkeeper aside and asks for the bracelet. He gives her a fair price, and she agrees immediately. He looks relieved as he hands her the neatly wrapped metal, and she tucks it in the waistband of her shorts as Eretria calls impatiently.

The rover greets her with a smile as she steps outside.

“We’re pretty close!” she calls, and points, bounding in the direction her finger points in. “There’s a bridge over there…”   
She comes to a stop, and stares at the rope bridge, which stretches across the sheer cliff to the other side of the valley, and looks quite sturdy- except for the slight issue that it’s broken.

Very broken.

“Well, shit.” Eretria says, then turns to her. “Looks like we might be walking for a little more now.”

_ Is it weird,  _ Amberle thinks as she trails behind the rover,  _ that she feels oddly relieved? _

 


	5. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they finally bang.

It is inevitable when they fall into bed with each other. It's purely a physical attraction, Amberle convinces herself, as she melts, pliant, against soft lips and demanding hands. Eretria pulls away once, mumbles, 'Stop thinking so hard,' and Amberle complies, pushes back against the rover, eager, maybe a little too much.  
"No strings," Amberle gasps out between ragged breaths, and Eretria echoes it back against where her lips press her neck, maybe a little noncommittal.  
It is inevitable that Amberle promises herself- and a half-asleep rover- that it won't happen again.  
It is furthermore inevitable that it does, and then again, and again, and again.  
Once, they're in an actual bed, and afterward, Eretria brings her hand to her lips, kisses each fingertip. She reaches Amberle's ring finger when the princess yanks her hand away.  
"No strings," she reminds her harshly, and her voice is a little too desperate.  
Eretria scoffs. "Keep telling yourself that, princess," and then she rolls over, back to the other girl.  
It's only physical, she reminds herself, when she barely catches herself reaching out to absentmindedly tuck a strand of dark hair behind the rover's ear, she's hot, and good at it, and so what if I almost said I loved her, it was in the heat of the moment.  
Eretria withdraws a little, respects her, doesn't try to make Amberle acknowledge her feelings, and it just makes it worse, because, as she stops talking to her about the forest, or any thought that pops into her head, she finds that she misses it, however much she hates to admit it. She misses the little sparkle in dark eyes as she points out the names of birds, or the little smirk at the corner of her lips as she tells extravagantly tall tales about various folklores, gesticulating wildly and adding completely unnecessary details that have nothing to do with the story, until Amberle's sides ache from laughter.  
Amberle ignores the obvious fact that she only knows these things because she's been staring.  
After a particularly boring day, Amberle scoots in next to Eretria, and says, quietly,  
"You know, sex doesn't change us. We can still be friends. Friends with benefits."  
To her credit, Eretria only rolls her eyes once.  
But they settle back into a friendly dynamic, occasionally pinning each other up against trees and kissing each other senseless, and Amberle doesn't- or forces herself not to- realize that this is essentially a romantic relationship.  
Out of courtesy, and sheer force of will (see what she did there?), the rover manages to refrain from making engagement quips on the several occasions she's had to make one.  
One night, Eretria's path curves, and eventually they're walking in the opposite direction, and Amberle doesn't ask, but she knows that their journey is halfway through.  
That night, she kisses the rover a little more gently than usual, and Eretria watches her with dark, moonlit eyes that speak volumes.  
It's just sex, she tells herself firmly, but every day, the voice in her head becomes a little less certain.  
She enjoys spending time with the rover, though she'd never say it. She enjoys hearing stories of the three-eyed women in Talazarin Cave, she enjoys listening to Eretria's detailed description of various plants and animals- and one night, she understands exactly how well she knows the forest.  
It's about evening, and she's walking backwards, staring at the sunset, Eretria guiding her, their hands clasped, Amberle ignoring how it sends butterflies to her stomach, fluttering in her chest, replacing her heartbeat. Suddenly, Eretria stops short, and she whirls, expecting wolves, or, even worse, Cephalo. Instead, she finds a dim shape. A tiny shape, huddled in a nest of broken twigs, looking pitifully up at them.  
Eretria takes a slight breath, then curses in what sounds like resignation, and crouches, two hands cupping under the tiny bird.  
"What is it?" Amberle asks, and Eretria squints at it.  
"Baby magpie," comes the answer, and then she turns to Amberle, and in one sudden motion shoves her hands, bird and all, up her jacket- Eretria's jacket, actually, she stole it because she was cold. Not because it smelled like her or anything.  
Amberle lets out an undignified yelp and shoves her away- or tries to, but Eretria stubbornly keeps her cold fingers against her bare stomach, and finally, she succeeds in grabbing the rover's hands.  
"What the hell?" she hisses, and receives an unapologetic shrug.  
"It needs to be warm," the rover says.  
"Not warm under my shirt," Amberle huffs, and then looks down at the bird. It's cute, she has to admit, with its fluffy, black-and-white-splotched feathers, and as she shrugs out of Eretria's jacket, she cups its little body in one hand and transfers it, albeit a little awkwardly, into the warm leather.  
It makes a little screeching noise up at her, and she scrunched her nose and coos at it, already taken with the little fluffy thing.  
Suddenly, a light kiss lands on her nose, and she looks up, shocked, at Eretria's laughing dark eyes.  
"You're cute," the rover says fondly before turning away, walking at a steady pace. Amberle stares at her, cheeks red, before scrambling forward, hands cupping the little magpie, who looks at her with a knowing look, squawking.  
"Shut up," she mumbles, catching up to the rover.  
It turns out that the magpie is not as young as it seems, and also that it holds an infuriatingly large portion of Eretria's attention.  
It's only been underfed, and Eretria stuffs it with breadcrumbs until it is thoroughly fattened up, feathers gleaming black and white, stiff and polished. It takes to perching on Eretria's shoulder, and she tells it stories, as Amberle trails moodily behind the amicably chatting pair.  
"Does it have more sex appeal than me?" Amberle asks one night, and Eretria's hand stops. The magpie, christened Lyrian, lets out an indignant caw and butts his head against the rover's fingers until she goes back to running her hand though his soft feathers.  
She pretends to think, lips curling in a devilish smirk. "Yeah," she decides, and Amberle pouts at her.  
"I hate you," she says, and when one eyebrow arches slightly, she huffs.  
"Fine," she admits. "I don't hate you."  
Eretria looks surprised at the admission. "Really? And here I thought it was hate sex."  
Okay, so not surprised. Asshole.  
"You see," Eretria says, and then rattles off a paragraph, as Amberle shifts closer. "And then you said-" and she cuts herself off as she notices how close they are.  
The princess smiles, all gleaming teeth, and Eretria watches her, dark eyes hungry.  
And then she leans forward, one hand barely pressing at the rover's cheek, and ghosts her lips over Eretria's. Lyrian watches, looking vaguely disapproving, as Eretria lets out a whine and catches her bottom lip between her teeth.  
"You like me more than him," Amberle says, and Eretria smirks with swollen pink lips.  
"Nope," she says, popping the 'p', and Amberle scowls before grinning lips catch hers. The rover pushes her back, still smiling, and Lyrian squawks before fluttering away in a huff.  
Afterwards, they just lie there, and Amberle's breaths have just evened out, when she hears the rover start to speak, and she's wide awake.  
"This 'no strings' thing isn't really working out," she says quietly. "And god knows you're engaged, and there's about two weeks left on this trip, and Cephalo's going to catch me eventually, but-" and she sighs, a little frustrated- "I can't help it."  
Amberle holds her breath, and Eretria says, even quieter, barely above a whisper, "And I don't know if I want to stop."  
And then she falls silent, and Amberle stares in shocked silence, because the world appears to be ganging up on her. She can't feel anything for Eretria. She can't, and she won't.  
It doesn't cross her mind until a long time later that it was always 'can't', or 'won't', and never 'doesn't'.


	6. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Other chapter titles:  
> Oops My Hand Slipped  
> Haha Fuck You Get Ready For Angst  
> EVIL LAUGHTER  
> guess who's back bitches  
> fuk all y'all

“Hey,” Amberle says. They’re walking through the forest, Lyrian perched on Eretria’s shoulder. It’s nearly noon, and the sun beats down, hard and unforgiving, on the branches intertwined above them.

Eretria hums in acknowledgment, intently studying the ground.

“You know when you told me about Rainian?”

She nods, still not breaking her stare.

“You mentioned he was from Kyrder. I thought that was a dead country?”

“Maybe in the books, princess.”

“What does that mean?” Amberle asks.

“It’s not as dead as you might think.”

Eretria looks up, seeing Amberle’s confused expression, and laughs. “What I meant,” she says, “was that the old Kyrderians banded together and said that their country might not be officially a country, but they were still a people, and no one could break them apart. And then your great-grandfather agreed to recognize them as a race.”

“And how did you meet them?”

“It was before Cephalo,” she says thoughtfully, “and I got lost. I came across their camp, and then I stayed with them for a week until they brought me back. Rainian was the _aainalli_ , or the second child of his mother, which made him the heir of his family.”

“Not the firstborn?” Amberle asks curiously, and Eretria shakes her head.

“No. The Kyrder believe that the second child represents hope, a new beginning. If the firstborn failed, the second-born would succeed.”

“Poetic,” Amberle says. Eretria shrugs.

“Think what you will. I never believed in the concept of heirs.”

“No?”

“No.”

It takes Amberle only three minutes and twenty-seven seconds to break.

“Why not?”

Eretria smiles. “It’s logic. Why would you give the throne to someone because of their bloodline? It doesn’t matter if it’s the firstborn or if it’s a bastard orphan from Ilyria. All that matters is if they can fully perform the position they are placed in.”

Amberle stares at her.

“What?” Eretria asks, uncomfortable.

“Just a rover?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think my mother can match you in eloquence.”

“You flatter me,” Eretria says dramatically, fluttering her hands, and Amberle snorts.

“You are absolutely ridiculous.”

“You love me,” Eretria says confidently.

“I do,” Amberle agrees unthinkingly, and both of them freeze.

“You-“ Eretria begins, expression unreadable, but she’s abruptly cut off by a distant voice.

“You haven’t found her yet,” the voice hisses loudly, and Eretria’s eyes go wide, panicked. _Cephalo._

“The dogs are leading this way!” another voice pleads.

“That’s what you said last time, and the time before that.”

“They’re on the scent, I swear!”

“This is your last chance, Ryder. I need to find her.” His voice lowers, turning into muffled mumbling, and Amberle turns to stare at Eretria.

And then there’s frenzied barking, and a large dog comes bounding into the clearing, flanked by two others. The middle one comes straight at Eretria, and she yanks a dagger out of her belt and swings, cutting a gash across its muscled shoulder. It blinks, dazed, and then shakes itself out of it, growling. The other two growl as well, and Amberle stays frozen, rooted on the spot. Eretria turns around.

“Run!” she shouts, and finally Amberle collects herself, rising and sprinting- toward Eretria.

“No, you batshit crazy dumbass!” Eretria screams. ”Get out!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Amberle cries, and Eretria makes a face. The dogs jump all at once, and Eretria’s hands fly out, a knife suddenly glittering in her other hand as well, but she only catches two of the dogs, and the third sinks its jaw into her side. Eretria screams in pain, dropping her knives thrashing, and suddenly there’s a black blur shooting in front of Eretria, and Lyrian drives his sharp beak into the dog’s head. It lets out a growl deep in its throat, still holding onto Eretria, and its paw rises to swipe at the shining bird. Lyrian drives his beak in one last time, and the dog shudders, its jaw releasing, flopping to the ground, and Eretria falls with it, groaning in pain.

Cephalo and Ryder come crashing into the clearing, and Ryder’s eyes go wide.

“Sterling!” he cries, staring at the dogs on the ground. “Rinal! Astyrdon!”

“Eretria,” Cephalo says, voice low, malicious. “Excellent.”

“I won’t let you have her.” Amberle says, gripping the knife in a tight fist. Cephalo looks at her.

“Oh,” he says, disinterested. “Another one of her little girlfriends?”

Amberle’s jaw tightens. _Another one?_

But now’s not the time, with Eretria lying motionless at her feet, so she grits her teeth in determination.

“Oh? You didn’t know about that?” he drawls. “Did she use her rover charms on you? Lure you in? I’ll bet that you’re worth a bit of money, huh. Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

He lowers his voice.

“She doesn’t care. She doesn’t care _at all_. You got that? She’s had-  what is it now, Eretria?- twelve like you before. Each one- she took what she wanted, and then _tossed them away_. You’re lucky the dogs got to her before she got to you.”

“Fuck you,” Amberle hisses, and he looks surprised for a split-second.

“Oh,” he says pityingly, “I guess she got to you already.”

And then he springs forward, and Ryder dives between them. Cephalo stops just before the gun hits his head.

“Ryder, what are you doing?”

“My dogs,” Ryder says quietly, then louder, “My dogs!”

“She killed your dogs, Ryder,” Cephalo says softly, his voice honey-sweet.

“No, she didn’t,” he says, and then he screams, “You did! My dogs! They were the only thing that I ever loved, and you took them from me. You took them from me!”

And then Cephalo pulls the trigger, just as Ryder springs forward, the other knife in his hand, and drives it into Cephalo’s chest.

Both of them fall, Ryder with a little groan, something between relief and pain. There’s a distinct cracking sound as Cephalo’s body lands on his knee. Cephalo’s eyes are closed, his face in a cold sneer. Amberle rushes to Eretria’s side. They all have their wounded.

“Astyrdon. Sterling. Rinal.” he says, and one of the dogs whimper. His eyes fly open.

“Sterling,” he whispers. “Come here, boy.”

The dog drags itself limply over. There’s a gash running across its front left leg.

“Hey,” he says, running his hand over the dog’s head.

The dog whines softly.

“Yeah, buddy, I know.”

Sterling sighs softly.

Lyrian lets out a caw from the tree where he’s perched, and flutters down to Eretria’s side.

“Take care of him,” Ryder says, and when Amberle looks up from where she kneels by the unconscious rover, he’s looking directly at her. “Sterling, you stay with her, okay, buddy?”

The dog whines again, pawing at Ryder’s chest, where blood has soaked his dark hunting shirt.

“I know, Sterling, I know. It’s okay.”

The dog noses at his head gently, and he smiles sadly, his eyes closing.

“I’m sorry about your siblings, buddy. I miss them too.”

Sterling lets out a soft noise.

“Take care of yourself. Girl, take care of him. He’s the only thing I have left.”

“I will,” Amberle promises.

“Thanks,” he says, then turns to the dog, hand stroking softly at his nose.

“I love you, bud. See you soon.”

The dog hums.

“Okay,” he smiles, and then he is gone.

The dog lets out a piercing, mournful sound, and falls on top of Ryder’s body. Amberle watches the scene for a moment before turning away, feeling as if she’s intruding on a private scene.

Eretria mumbles in her sleep, stirring.

“Shh,” Amberle whispers, stroking her hair, and inspects the wound.

“How is it?” Eretria mumbles.

“Bad.” Amberle says.

It’s the biggest understatement of all time.

“Oh, fuck my life,” Eretria says, closing her eyes. “I’ve got the worst liar, the worst doctor, and the prissiest person on this earth all in one package, my shoulder feels like it’s on fucking fire, and- jesus, what the hell are you doing- Lyrian, get your beak out of my fucking wound, I don’t even- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT DOG DOING. Why is it here. Fuck. Ow. Jesus Christ. Fuckdammitjesusfuckingchristohmygodprincesswhatthehellareyoudoing ow.”

“Shut up.” Amberle snaps. “I think I preferred you when you were unconscious.”

“You have to pity me,” Eretria whines. “I’m _injured_.”

“Fuck you.” Amberle says shortly.

Lyrian suddenly reappears, having disappeared while Eretria was complaining, and moments later, Ryli comes striding into the clearing. She stops short when she sees Eretria.

“Eretria,” she breathes, and then shoots a glare at Amberle. “Get out of my way.”

Amberle paces nervously for the next three hours, until finally Ryli comes out of the clearing.

She’s pale, bloodstained hands shaking.

“Ryli?”

“There’s something wrong.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave comments! You can contact me at @dreamof1698 on tumblr.


End file.
